


Of Snow and Flames

by paintbrushflowers



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: (But not really don't worry), Espionage, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Grief, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kidnapping, Post-Canon, Retirement, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:48:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26550907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paintbrushflowers/pseuds/paintbrushflowers
Summary: Hubert finds himself engulfed in the edges of war again, and he's determined to end it swiftly and with no mercy, even if that means extreme measures.Edelgard holds similar sentiments, but she and the other Black Eagles are determined to not lose Hubert in the process.(aka Hubert and Edelgard growing closer as they deal with their pasts, their futures, and Agarthans)
Relationships: Bernadetta von Varley & Hubert von Vestra, Edelgard von Hresvelg & Hubert von Vestra, Edelgard von Hresvelg/Hubert von Vestra, Ferdinand von Aegir & Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	1. Eth_real M_on - P_rt 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ferdinand arrives with somber news about Bernadetta.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //tw warning: Grief and implied/mentioned character death

_30th of the Ethereal Moon_

_Imperial Year 1188_

_Salz Coast, Aegir territory_

No sunlight could be seen through the thick, grey clouds and heavy snowfall. The harsh wind howled and rattled the bare trees and sent the snow falling to the ground even faster than before. It was all a reminder that Guardian Moon was almost upon them. 

Specks of firelight could be seen clustered on the white landscape. One such light was a lantern peeking through the glass of a greenhouse. _Edelgard’s_ greenhouse. It was small and not as grand compared to the one at Enbarr Palace or the one that used to be at Garreg Mach, but it was one of many gifts Hubert surprised her with when they retired in the spring, and she treasured it.

Every time she stepped inside, memories of her and Hubert planning, planting, and tending to flowers and herbs made her beam with the brightest smile. Normally she would spend hours in the greenhouse, and so would Hubert. But today she was quickly peeking inside and leaving. 

It was too cold outside to linger.

She walked quickly down the rows to glance at each plant. Thankfully not much seemed to need attention. The yellow and red pansies were doing well in full bloom, and from afar it looked like Hubert’s winter roses were bright and tall. She didn’t get too close to them; she did her best to avoid the corner full of poisonous plants. 

“This won’t do at all.” She furrowed her brows when she saw the lavender. All of it was withering. 

The wind rattled the glass of the greenhouse, and she quickly decided to give the lavender more water, and hoped it brightened up. She reluctantly abandoned checking on the rest of the plants. The snow was falling even faster now, and the wind only howled louder. She had to get back inside.

With one last glance, she looked about the room before stepping into the snow. The wind slammed the greenhouse door loudly behind her. She quickened her pace and didn’t falter. But by the time she got across the clearing and into the house, she was covered in snow. She abandoned her boots and cloak and lantern by the kitchen door and stepped towards the fireplace where dinner was simmering. The wind had whipped strands of her hair from the complicated braids Hubert had made that morning; she blew a few loose strands from her face before taking a deep breath. The wonderful aroma of Hubert’s delicious soup floated from a large pot above the fire. Hubert, though, was nowhere to be found.

Edelgard peeked into the sitting room, and found the fire at a dull roar but no Hubert. At the sight of two empty tea cups on one of the ornate side tables, she wondered if a guest had arrived.

She made her way down another hall, and that’s when she saw the distinct auburn hair of the Prime Minister through the glass panes of the doors to Hubert’s study. It was not at all an unwelcome surprise, but Edelgard never remembered Ferdinand speaking of visiting in his last letter. Though, his most recent letters hadn’t said much of anything at all.

There must be a silence spell over the room, because she couldn’t hear them speaking. Whatever it was, it looked rather heated by Hubert’s deathly stare and Ferdinand waving his arms about. Hubert slammed a hand on his desk. Ferdinand’s tightened to fists. With a very threatening look, Hubert spoke again before he paused. His expression immediately softened to something more neutral when he spotted Edelgard.

Ferdinand followed his gaze, broke into a smile at the sight of her, and turned on his heels before swinging open the door. Hubert rolled his eyes and followed him out with crossed arms. 

“Edelgard! It is so good to see you!” Ferdinand clasped her hands in his.

“You as well, my dear friend. You look exhausted.” She smiled at him and then raised an eyebrow at Hubert, silently asking him about their argument. He shook his head dismissively to explain it was nothing important.

“Yes, well the council meetings have been long recently.” He brushed some of his hair over his shoulder. “The Minister of Agriculture is trying to pass a bill to raise taxes again; so, I suppose I have had a few long nights recently. I will not let him convince the council to pass it!” His eyes glittered with determination.

“Undeterred as always,” she rested her hands on her hips and shook her head. “Did you just arrive? I did not know you were coming.”

“Yes, it was rather sudden.” The sparkle in his eyes faded. “Sadly… I have come for more than a... simple visit.” His voice seemed strained at the end.

Edelgard furrowed her brows. “What happened, Ferdinand?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but Hubert lay a hand on his shoulder. He gave Ferdinand a knowing look before carefully saying, “I believe dinner is the most important matter at hand. Ferdinand has been riding all day in the snow. Let us eat before discussing anything.”

Ferdinand nodded quickly. “Y-yes. And I still need to put my horse in the stable.” He brushed past Edelgard to head outside.

Edelgard watched him leave and the wind slam the door shut before she followed Hubert into the kitchen. “What’s going on?”

“It’s best if Ferdinand explains.” His composure gave nothing away. 

Edelgard let it go, and they silently carried porcelain bowls and silver spoons into the dining room. Edelgard began arranging everything properly as Hubert carried in the tea cups and kettle. He hissed when his torso bumped into the table.

“Are you alright?” Edelgard asked.

“Just sore.” His grim smile offered no reassurance.

Edelgard crossed her arms. “Perhaps you deserve it for trying to fend off eight wolves alone.”

“They were going to eat the horses,” he reasoned calmly as he set the kettle down and stepped towards her.

“You didn’t ask for my help.”

“You were asleep. I wasn’t going to wake you. Besides,” He smiled darkly. “I killed most of them.”

“Before one of them clawed your side to shreds.” She stepped closer until they were mere inches from one another.

His bright green eyes looked down at her with a hint of mischief. “An exaggeration. It healed weeks ago,” he insisted. “It’s just the old war wound giving me trouble now. My, when did you begin fretting over me so?” 

“Oh, don’t be a hypocrite, Hubert. You fret endlessly over me.”

“How can I not? With all respect, you were the one who decided it was tactful to separate from your battalion and fight Dimitri completely alone.”

Edelgard wrapped her arms around his neck. “Hmm, I’ll admit you have a fair point. We’re both reckless...Let’s call it a tie.” She closed the gap between them. Hubert inhaled sharply at first, his body tense. But a moment later he relaxed and let out the most gentle sigh as he tilted his head to deepen the kiss. One of his gloved hands rested against the back of her head to draw her closer.

They both pulled away at the sound of Ferdinand clearing his throat. Hubert practically jumped. Edelgard did her best not to laugh when she saw both his and Ferdinand’s faces turn red.

\---

Eventually they all sat down with bowls of steaming soup and a brew of pine needles tea. For dessert, to Edelgard’s delight, Ferdinand had brought apple bread from Enbarr.

“Do you happen to know how Linhardt’s expedition to Morfis is coming along? He’s too lazy to write often, you know.” Hubert asked Ferdinand.

“He is still planning for it, yes.” Ferdinand answered quietly. “But I doubt he will go if Lysithea’s health does not improve. They have become inseparable these days.”

Hubert grunted in acknowledgement and then there was a long bout of silence. Edelgard watched both of them stare at their soup more than they ate it. The dreary air made her begin to lose her appetite too.

“...How is Dorothea?” she ventured to ask. “How is the engagement?”

“Oh,” Ferdinand strained to smile. “She is well...She got married last week, actually. I thought she would have told you.”

“Married?” Edelgard blinked.

"How sudden.” Hubert raised an eyebrow. “Did you attend the wedding?”

“She had no grand ceremony from what I am aware of. She still does not...speak to me. I still do not know how I have angered her. But it is alright.” He waved a hand before quickly taking a sip of tea. He didn’t appear as phased by such a sudden development as Edelgard would have thought. He and Dorothea had begun courting in the summer and seemed happy until all of a sudden two moons ago. Edelgard couldn’t get either of them to explain what happened. She’d expected Ferdinand to be completely heartbroken, but he seemed more dismissive than anything else.

Hubert passed her a troubled look before going back to his calm smile and blowing on his soup that he still had barely eaten. They would definitely speak of this later. Edelgard also made a mental note to interrogate Dorothea on her severely hasty marriage. What was she _thinking_?

“Is this blend from Dagda? It doesn’t taste Almyran.” Ferdinand lowered his teacup slowly.

“It is,” Hubert replied as he poured Edelgard another cup. She whispered her thanks.

“It’s... lovely.” Ferdinand swallowed, as if he was straining to keep his composure. He was quiet a long moment before mumbling, “...I should tell you why I’m here.”

Hubert stood abruptly. “I will get more tea,” he muttered before leaving the room.

Edelgard watched him leave and her concern grew as Ferdinand _did_ lose his composure. He pinched the bridge of his nose and bowed his head. His hair and hand covered his face. “Ferdinand, what happened?” she demanded. “You’ve been so somber ever since you arrived.”

When he finally looked up at her, tears were spilling from his eyes. “...It’s Bernadetta...I’m sorry…”

Everything slowed down around her as she realized what he was saying. She went numb and didn’t notice the hot tea falling onto her lap or the teacup that had been in her hand shattering on the floor.

“How did it happen?”

“She and her spies were investigating some rumors when they were attacked,” Hubert was the one that spoke. He must have reentered the room at some point. “It is believed to be...Agarthans.” He bent over Edelgard and silently gave her a cloth napkin.

She didn’t take much notice. Her vision swam around her, and she felt as if she would vomit at any moment.

This couldn’t be happening.

“W-we haven’t been able to recover their bodies. We were sent Bernadetta’s signet ring and a note in Agarthan. They’re after you both next. They seemed... rather proud of themselves.” Ferdinand was quiet a moment longer as he tried to calm down.

Edelgard was doing everything she could not to scream. She’d learned to keep her composure when she was surrounded by nobles and people like her uncle. One wouldn’t survive to claim the throne let alone win a war if feelings always got in the way of decisions. This was proving more difficult than normal though. Of all people...Bernadetta. Edelgard was tired of death. So many soldiers had died in the war. So many innocents got caught in the middle of battles for land and attacks on trade routes. The Strike Force had to face old friends and leave them dead on the battlefield. Edelgard had watched Dimitri fall as she swung the final blow with Aymr. She helped take down the Immaculate One. And Byleth...she’d killed Byleth with her own hands. She’d watched the life from the Professor’s eyes fade in her arms as the flames burned Fhirdiad.

Her hands were stained with blood now. It was worth it for a new Fódlan to arise, she reassured herself. For the old system to no longer hold its tainted power over people. And it was worth it to protect those she loved.

The filthy snakes would pay for taking Bernadetta. 

“That is why I have come,” Ferdinand’s voice was slightly calmer now that determination burned in his eyes. “We have no idea how many of them have hidden from our search since the Battle of Shambhala. If they are truly after you two, you cannot fight them alone. Please come to Enbarr.” He looked between Edelgard and Hubert. “They could be lying, trying to seem more threatening than they are. Or they might have truly found where you are hiding away. We cannot risk it.”

Edelgard nodded. “Agreed. And we must gather forces at once to crush them.” Speaking her thoughts made her anger and resolve burn stronger in her chest.

“We will leave at daybreak,” Hubert finally spoke again. His expression was empty and cold. He rose from his chair and gathered the tea cups before disappearing for the kitchen.

* * *

Edelgard pulled at the sleeves of her nightgown as she stared out her bedroom window. The snow had stopped and the grey clouds had parted just enough to offer a sliver of the night sky, but the Blue Sea Star nor the moon could be seen. That only added to Edelgard’s dismal thoughts. She usually wasn’t one to believe in omens, but after such a day, she found herself believing it.

“El.” A white gloved hand gently rested on her shoulder.

She leaned back for Hubert to wrap his arms around her and rest his head gently on hers.

“We need to gather our best troops... Caspar wouldn’t hesitate to lend us battalions. I’m sure Petra would send some from Brigid. We’ll storm them like Shambhala. Wipe them out. Burn everything,” she muttered darkly.

“I don’t think we should treat this in the same way as the Battle of Shambhala.” He let her go and instead gently led her to sit on their bed. “We don’t have enough information. For them to hide from our search is a grand feat, and another to do so for so incredibly long. We do not know their intentions as we did when Arundel lived. It could be different. We must use discretion.”

Edelgard grunted in agreement. “But we must do so swiftly. I will not stand to wait like we did with Thales. This situation doesn’t hold the same limitations.”

“An agreeable sentiment, my love.” He began pulling her hair from its complicated braids. At some point he’d removed his gloves. When all the braids were undone, he began to slowly brush away the curls until her hair was straight and tangle free. She leaned into his touch and eventually let out a pent-up sigh as her heart began to beat at a more normal pace. She relished in the warmth of his hands and the soft sound of his breathing against her ear.

“Do you feel better, your Majesty?” His voice reverberated against her neck. He half joked, but his tone was gentle.

“I do.” Her lips lifted into the ghost of a smile.

Her body twisted as she looked up at him. “But are _you_ okay, Hubert?”

She watched his face go from a soft expression to an empty one. “I’m fine,” he clearly lied. But she knew better than to press him at a time like now. 

He stood and set the brush down. The sliver of sky disappeared as he closed the curtains and then went about the room snuffing out the flames of the lanterns until only a candle was left on one of the bedside tables. Edelgard watched him as she rested against a pillow and sunk into the thick blankets. Hubert joined her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“Ferdinand isn’t himself,” Hubert remarked. His voice was muffled by her hair.

“Mm,” she agreed. “He was completely unphased by Dorothea marrying someone else. From his letters and Dorothea’s, they had seemed so happy when they were courting.”

“It’s not just that; something’s not right.”

“We can think about it more tomorrow,” she mumbled. “We should sleep.”

He hummed and kissed the crook of her neck. 

“Hubert.” Her lips lifted into a true smile as she squirmed under his hold. He replied by peppering kisses up her neck and jaw. “Hubert!” she giggled.

He kissed her lips, and she couldn’t help but lean into it. He smelled of coffee and tasted of sweet pine needles, and she desperately tried to memorize it with each deepened kiss. Eventually Hubert pulled away to catch his breath and propped himself up on one elbow. She slowly brushed his ebony fringe away so that both his striking eyes stared back.

Hubert offered a rare, soft smile. “You know it will be alright, El.” He put a hand on her cheek.

She smiled and leaned into his touch. “Of course.” Even though dread and anger knotted in her stomach, determination and hope burned stronger.

“I will always burn alight the path before you, emperor or not,” he whispered. "My life is yours. We will succeed, no matter what it takes.” He blew the candle by their bedside out.

Edelgard eyes blinked at the sudden darkness. But she leaned into Hubert’s arms. They were unusually tight around her, and now that it was silent, she could hear his racing heart. She silently tried to calm him by placing a hand against his chest. Ideas of how to get him to speak his mind and how to comfort him drifted through her thoughts before she faded to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: The Blood Mage
> 
> (Bernie will be okay don't worry)


	2. Eth_r_al Mo_n - P_rt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Blood Mage arrives in Enbarr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //tw warning: Grief and implied/mentioned character death

Ferdinand was in the middle of a long ramble as he leaned back in the plush chair in front of Hubert’s desk. In between sips of tea, he went on about taxes and the complexities with financing the new education system. He raised his tea cup as he made his proclamation, "The Minister of Agriculture cannot be allowed to convince the council to pass a higher tax on the common people’s goods! I won't let the fiend do it!"

On a normal occasion, Hubert would impatiently point out that Ferdinand was the _Prime Minister_ , and with the way his position now worked, nothing got through the council without _his_ final say. They would probably begin arguing as Ferdinand snapped how he still wanted the council's support, but this wasn't a normal occasion.

Hubert was barely paying attention to what Ferdinand was saying. Most of his focus had been on how starkly pale Ferdinand’s normally tanned face was and how his usually poised hands were trembling. And his eyes...They were supposed to be full of life, fierce and determined. But they looked pale and dull, and it was almost as if the bright color of his eyes had faded altogether.

“Ferdinand, what’s wrong,” Hubert interrupted him mid-sentence.

The minister blinked behind his teacup that was shaking with his hands. “Hmm? Wh- what do you mean?”

“You look...unwell.” At that statement Ferdinand went even paler and immediately looked to the floor. “I haven’t seen you this troubled in ages, and you sent no letter ahead for your sudden arrival. Tell me what’s wrong,” he hissed.

Ferdinand sunk deeper into his chair as his facade faded. “Hubert…” There was silence for a moment as he thought and set his tea cup down slowly, as if he feared it might shatter. “Something...something happened…” his voice wavered.

“Why didn’t-” He inhaled deeply and then continued in a somewhat gentle tone, “Why didn’t you start with this?”

“I...I’ve been trying to figure out how to say it the entire ride here.” Ferdinand finally met his gaze. He looked utterly distraught. “I’m sorry...It’s... _Flames, it is all my fault._ ” He rubbed his eyes.

“What’s all your fault?”

Still trembling, Ferdinand pulled a report from his coat and handed it to Hubert who immediately began reading it. His eyes darted quickly across the paper. 

Another group of spies had gone missing, presumed dead. His stomach lurched when he saw Minister Varley among the list. 

The paper crinkled under Hubert’s tight grip. “This...this is the report for the spies that looked into the rumored bandits in the north....She...Bernadetta…”

“Hubert…”

Hubert flinched back. “ _How could you-_ The spies you and Bernadetta had sent before them ended up dead or missing-” his voice rose to a shout. “-and you decided that the best course of action was to send a second group with _Bernadetta?_ ”

Ferdinand looked like Hubert had just slapped him. “Bernadetta and I agreed it was the best decision! We can’t trust many when it comes to rumors of Agarthans appearing! She’s one of the best with a bow and dagger, and you know it!”

“Perhaps, but her brilliant mind had done far more for Fódlan than her prowess in the war! She agreed to be the Minister of Imperial Affairs after me if it meant she was managing the spy network and creating new ciphers safely in Enbarr, not on the battlefield!” Hubert snarled. “How could she have possibly agreed to-”

“The bandits had been rumored to be Agarthans, Hubert. I needed to send someone I trusted! And they _are_ Agarthans! They are _organized!_ Far more than we’ve ever seen since the Fall of Shambhala! Can’t you see the impossible situation I was in!” Ferdinand’s voice broke.

“No, I don’t,” Hubert snarled. “You knew just as much as I that the rumor was true even if their numbers and structure were unknown. No matter how many, you _never_ underestimate them.”

“Well, I couldn’t send you, could I?” Ferdinand’s words hit Hubert like a lance to the heart.

“You sent Bernadetta to her death!” Hubert shouted, slamming a hand on his desk. Even as the words escaped his lips, he immediately regretted them. He was directing his anger and grief at Ferdinand, and he knew it. But he couldn't stop himself. “This is your fault. If you had actually _thought_ before tactlessly-” He paused when he saw Edelgard peering into his study. “We... We will continue this later. I want everything you have on these Agarthans. And don’t let Edelgard know of this conversation; this isn’t how she should find out about Bernadetta.”

Ferdinand glared at him and briskly nodded before whirling around and forcing a smile to his face as he talked outside with Edelgard. 

Hubert felt anger and a horrible, sickening feeling begin to grow in his throat. He wouldn’t dare think about it hard enough to actually name it. Instead, he quickly swallowed the feeling and forced himself to join Ferdinand and Edelgard in the hall. And as he did, he pondered exactly how he would kill the filthy snakes who’d dared to slither from their hiding places.

* * *

Once they stepped onto Enbarr Palace grounds, Ferdinand mumbled something about a council meeting and hurried off. Dorothea very exuberantly ushered Edelgard inside with some mention of tea and Edelgard’s favorite sweets. And now Hubert was left to put the horses in their stalls. A stablehand offered to take them, but Hubert insisted he would do it himself.

The whole day and a half ride there, Ferdinand and Edelgard had debated on tariffs and taxes and were both clearly trying to keep distracted and optimistic. But as they rode through the snow, Hubert caught each of them crying quietly multiple times. He did his best to offer Edelgard comfort, but Ferdinand...Hubert still hadn’t found a proper time to apologize to him yet. He didn’t know how to comfort him either; so he let him be. It was... probably for the best. And Ferdinand was still acting odd...

His deep thoughts were broken as a horse muzzle bumped into the back of his head. “Hmm, I know, I know.” He turned and brushed Edelgard’s horse, Petal. She bumped into his head again, and snorted happily as his hair was messed up. “Yes, thank you.” He closed the door to her stall and returned the brush to its box. He eyed Petal and his own horse, Rêche. “Don’t give Splendid any trouble. Ferdinand won’t be happy if you pester his favorite mare.”

Petal and Rêche nickered in reply; Splendid joined them a moment later.

What was Hubert doing? If he was honest with himself, he was trying to stay distracted from his own inevitable doom.

“Lord Vestra!” 

Ah, there it was.

A soldier came up to him and bowed. “We are prepared to leave when you wish. I apologize it took so long.”

“No need to apologize. Lady Vestra and I’s arrival was sudden. You have prepared in mere minutes. Thank you.”

“Of course, Minister- I mean- Lord Vestra.” The soldier bowed again and hurried outside.

Hubert followed him where a pegasus and rider awaited. As soon as he arrived in Enbarr, Hubert slipped a note requesting the mount into the hand of a soldier from his spy network. He had to investigate something before anyone noticed he was missing, and he couldn’t trust anyone else to do it. It wasn’t that difficult. He would fly over, try not to vomit on the way, and fly back. Easy. Simple. Rational. There was nothing to fear.

He passed the stablehand a note for Edelgard before he climbed onto the saddle and held on so tightly his hands hurt. If he closed his eyes, it would be fine, he reassured himself. He didn’t even have to focus on flying. Just...not falling off.

“Where can I take you, Lord Vestra?” The rider greeted him as he climbed up behind her. 

“Garreg Mach Monastery,” he ordered calmly.

He’d read everything Ferdinand and the spy network had gathered on this emerging group of Those Who Slither in the Dark. They were reported to be lingering around Garreg Mach, and had appeared to be looking for something. Perhaps it was a feeble few that didn’t understand there were no more crest stones or relics to claim in the old monastery. Regardless, he had to see for himself.

* * *

Hubert was filled with relief as soon as his feet touched the ground. He’d felt lightheaded and nauseous the entire flight. The flight that had lasted half the day. Might as well have lasted eternity.

He only had two hours before the rider returned; so he didn’t hesitate to step into the cold ruins of Garreg Mach. He warped across the old paths to avoid footprints in the snow, and destroyed whatever tracks he did leave.

If he was more sentimental in the typical sense, perhaps he would imagine all the soldiers running about, Adrestian banners on the bridge fluttering in the wind, and the sounds of victory as a battalion returned from a battle. But Hubert didn’t slow down on his way across the courtyard to the first place he planned on investigating: the banned library in the Abyss. If the Agarthans were smart enough, they’d know it was there, and Hubert remembered it having some keen information on crests that Linhardt guarded like he did his favorite spots for naps. He doubted anything of importance was still there, but he had a feeling the Agarthans would look anyways.

Once Hubert reached the entrance to the Abyss tunnels, a different kind of sentimentality hit him. The familiar smell of wet earth and the sharp aroma of dark magic greeted him as he stepped inside, and his lips lifted into a sardonic smile. He couldn’t help but remember the memories of this place. Although he’d delegated the banned books to be dealt with by Linhardt (who had demanded quite dramatically to be handed their ownership), he’d barely stepped foot in the room. But the rest of the tunnels Hubert had spent many hours in.

With a confident step, he silently walked through the dark with a hand on the stone to keep track of where he was. He didn’t want to risk lighting a flame spell when he had no idea if anyone or anything unwelcoming lingered below. His gloved hand brushed over a glyph, and he cast a spell to activate it. The wall moved just enough for a person to slip through as it revealed another path. Hubert stepped through and closed the wall back with the brush of a hand on a glyph on the other side of the wall.

Many glyphs were carved onto the walls down this path, silence spells waiting to be activated and lingering wards to prevent warping. The smell of earth and magic grew, and Hubert almost thought he caught the lingering smell of blood too, and his sardonic smile grew. He’d obtained many shards of information from war prisoners and spies down here. Most of the Agarthans he’d questioned and tortured had been in the dungeons below Enbarr Palace, but a few that stepped out of turn during the War of Unification had been captured here. Hubert had treated them as the beginning of justice for what they and Arundel had done to Edelgard. The Agarthans that still crawled on the surface would soon join them.

He passed through another moving wall and the glyphs and strong smell of magic faded as he reached the banned library. Gingerly stepping inside, he listened and waited before lighting a flame spell in his hand when he decided no one was there. The darkness sunk away just enough for him to see a table a few steps away with cobweb covered candles upon it. He lit them and noticed a lantern on the other side of the table; it looked almost brand new. Someone had been here recently. And by the looks of the room now that Hubert could see it, they’d treated the library very poorly. Linhardt would be furious. Debris littered the ground, and most of the shelves were bare or covered in cobwebs. 

Whoever had been here wasn’t here now, so Hubert pulled out his reading spectacles and picked up a few of the tattered books and scrolls and began glancing through them. Drabble about the Feast of Decadence, how to compliment a lover, and the banning of some various discoveries including lanterns. Hubert had to suppress a snort at the poor attempt; they used lanterns all over Fódlan now.

He continued reading and skimmed through remnants of letters and undiscernible passages from tattered scrolls. There was some cryptic information about the Agarthans which looked promising, but it turned out to be nothing he didn’t already know. He leaned back in his chair and absently rubbed his aching hands. 

Perhaps this wasn’t what they came for. Perhaps the Agarthans had been scavenging somewhere else, or they’d already taken whatever traces could create a lead. He’d hoped they would have left more evidence of being here. The desperate few Hubert’s spies had found since the Fall of Shambhala usually did. But just as Hubert decided to look somewhere else around the monastery, he heard footsteps. He immediately extinguished the flames of the candles and melted into the shadows.

“We have acquired it,” a deep voice echoed through the library with a Brigid accent.

“How wonderful; we can almost move to the next advancement,” came a sickeningly sweet voice.

Two Agarthans come into view with a lantern.

“Now that we have the Sword of the Creator, we don’t have much time,” the sweet voice drawled on from the taller Agarthan.

Hubert’s mind raced. They had the _Sword of the Creator_? How was that possible? Ever since they’d conquered Faerghus and Edelgard had killed Byleth, Petra had taken the responsibility of watching the relic in Brigid.

The shorter Agarthan with the Brigid accent snickered and then abruptly snapped, “I will report this to the general, and see how he wants us to take the Flame Emperor. In the meantime, your orders are to get rid of the Blood Mage. _Permanently._ There is no way we can take the Emperor alive unless he is out of the way.”

“Of course, we’ve been preparing for it.” A big grin spread across the gray face.

“Remember that the Flame Emperor _must_ be kept alive.”

“Of course! We’ll give ’em our lives if we have to! The Crest of Flames is _everything_.” A spindly hand rested on its chest to emphasize the genuine eagerness in its voice.

Hubert could feel Miasma flowing into his hands. It took conscious effort to keep it from sparking to life. What did the filth want with Edelgard? How _dare_ they even _consider_ \- They would be dead. Their words had already assured that. Hubert could already imagine draining their blood from their bodies.

“See to it that you arrive at the Salz Coast before the end of the week. Now that we know where they are, we must take swift action. We lost too many spies for that information,” the shorter one growled.

A giggle echoed through the room. “Are you just jealous you don’t get to kill the Blood Mage yourself?”

“Who _doesn’t_ want to kill the Blood Mage themselves?”

Another Agarthan hurried into the room and skidded to a halt in front of them. “We saw a pegasus flying outside! We can’t tell who it is, but it looks like it's going to land! We need to leave!”

Had it been two hours already? _‘Flames.’_ Hubert silently snuck out a tunnel away from the Agarthans’ view and stepped quickly through the darkness. 

His stomach churned with all the Agarthans had said, but he couldn’t let himself process any of it. Not now. Not when he had to brace himself to fly again.

As soon as he stepped into the dim light of dusk, he warped to the meeting spot. The pegasus was already flying circles overhead and landed whenever they spotted him. Hubert scrambled on and immediately warped the rider, the pegasus, and himself a few kilometers away before they took off towards Enbarr. Warping so much mass so far made a dull, burning ache spread over his chest and hands, but he dismissed it and began to think about all the implications of his discovery. He and his spy network had snuffed out small, feeble groups of Agarthans since the Fall of Shambhala, but nothing noteworthy. This however...Ferdinand was right. They were organized and a real threat. And Hubert had been oblivious to it. His nausea grew in waves, and it didn’t come from the heights anymore.

* * *

It was early the next morning when he returned to Enbarr Palace. The sky was still black, and the sun wouldn’t be rising for a few more hours.

With a thunk, his boots were abandoned by the guest bedroom door, and his cloak, coat, and gloves were strung across a plush chair. He dismissed the idea of changing into sleep clothes. The nausea and headache were too much for him to care what he slept in. But he was awake enough to remember he was covered in dust, sweat and whatever other muck he’d touched in the dark tunnels of the Abyss; so when he climbed into bed, he carefully lay on top of the blankets, hoping that somehow made it better for Edelgard who was sound asleep beside him. He began to wrap an arm around her, but then he remembered where his disgusting, sickening, torture-inducing arm had been. But Edelgard...

Edelgard looked ethereal. 

An ache rose in his chest. Sometimes it all felt like a horribly vivid dream. How had Edelgard stayed by his side after he’d told her everything he’d done? The torture, the bribes, the carefully curated assassinations...How could she so happily wrap her unblemished hands in his?

As if his wife knew what he was thinking, she sleepily moved closer to him and delicately wrapped an arm around his side. Her eyelashes fluttered as her eyes opened halfway, and she smiled softly at him. Hubert couldn’t help but smile back. That expression of hers was horribly contagious and was horribly good at making his chest flutter. All of his doubts faded when her grip around him tightened.

“You’re back,” she whispered as she brushed a hand affectionately through his hair.

“I am.”

She pulled him closer and settled her head against his chest. He breathed in the faint, lingering floral smell of her perfume. A hum of relief escaped as exhaustion swept over him.

“You smell horrible, darling,” Edelgard murmured.

“The smell of sweat and magic.”

“No blood?”

“No blood,” he reassured.

“Good,” she whispered before they both drifted to sleep.

* * *

Hubert hadn’t slept for long. When he awoke, it was still dark outside, and he doubted he would be able to go back to sleep. At some point he’d moved to rest under the blankets (which he did not remember doing), and he was now entangled in Edelgard’s arms. He couldn’t dare get up, not with how peaceful she seemed. So instead, he lay there and let his mind reel over the past few days. 

What did the Agarthans want? Well, they wanted him dead, but that wasn't new. What worried him more was that they had wanted Edelgard, and clearly were keen on keeping her alive for whatever their sick plan was. For what? More experiments? Something to do with the Crest of Flames? They’d already forced that into her heart. Were they planning on taking it out? She would die if that happened. Linhardt hadn’t found a way to remove a crest safely yet. Perhaps they wanted to give her another crest altogether or force some kind of Agarthan seal or glyph into her skin. Any concept of them being anywhere near her, let alone _kidnapping_ her...It filled him with revulsion.

Then there was Ferdinand. He still wasn’t himself. There were small things, but it felt...wrong. Whenever he’d arrived at Hubert and Edelgard’s home, he’d left his horse in the cold for far longer than Hubert had ever seen him do. He didn’t insist on putting his horse in the stables himself whenever they arrived in Enbarr. He had barely said a single quipped remark to Hubert, which was especially shocking considering their most recent heated argument. Then what was far more concerning was how suddenly and completely indifferent he was about Dorothea, and his letters became sparse, vague, and lacked all the dramatics, length, and flowery prose that was quintessentially Ferdinand von Aegir. But most importantly were his eyes. At first, Hubert was concerned because he’d thought it was from grief and a lack of Ferdinand taking care of himself, but the more Hubert had studied them, the more... _inhuman_ they seemed.

Hubert shut his eyes tightly and suppressed a groan. Surely, he was just experiencing the paranoia one had when thinking too hard in the middle of the night. 

‘ _Ferdinand is afflicted with grief and too much work. That is why he is acting different,_ ’ he desperately tried to convince himself.

It wasn’t working.

* * *

The meeting with Ferdinand and Edelgard had been disgustingly too early in the morning. As Hubert walked to the War Room, every palace worker kept their heads low and scurried past him in the hallways. Even those that had been hired after he’d stepped down as Minister of Imperial Affairs had enough sense in them to avoid his ghoulish presence.

He was already drinking his third cup of coffee by the time he stood in front of the War Room table with Ferdinand as they waited for Edelgard. Even though he had only gotten an hour or two or sleep, he didn’t hesitate to cast a silence spell and a few wards to keep any prying eyes away, and he quickly down the rest of his coffee when Ferdinand started arguing with him about casting so many spells. How dare Hubert think Agarthan spies would slip into the palace. Ferdinand insisted he would never let something like that happen and took leading Fódlan very seriously. Hubert snarled that he’d never said those things nor did he think them. But Ferdinand had already been thoroughly insulted, and they’d continued arguing until Edelgard had walked in.

The entire time they argued, Hubert started questioning Ferdinand’s every move. Did he always wrinkle his nose like that when he was angry? Was that how he normally moved his hands when trying to prove a point? Did he always appear that tired? Surely that faded scar had always been on his hand...

“I’m sorry for being late,” Edelgard sighed as she entered. She continued more softly, “I was pulled into an argument about Bernadetta’s funeral.”

Ferdinand’s angry expression was immediately dropped and replaced with a somber frown. “Oh...yes. It has been quite heated and complicated.”

“Events woven into politics always are.” Edelgard smiled sadly and then raised her head in an authoritative sort of gesture. “But... let us get to the point, I know you are very busy, Ferdinand.” She moved to sit down at the table. “I spoke with Dorothea yesterday and Linhardt, Lysithea, and Manuela this morning. Even they do not seem to know the true origins of Bernadetta’s death. You haven’t told them anything, have you?” Edelgard questioned Ferdinand as Hubert bent over the tactical map of Fódlan on the large, oak table.

“No, of course not,” Ferdinand replied calmly, “I am trying to keep this close to my chest.”

“Good.” She turned to Hubert. “You said you had news to share.”

“I’m afraid this is not like other occurrences of Agarthans since the Fall of Shambhala... Those Who Slither in the Dark seem to have the Sword of the Creator.”

"What?" Hubert watched Ferdinand’s expression carefully. His surprise did _appear_ genuine...

“How is that possible?” Edelgard gasped. “Petra has its location tightly hidden.”

“I’m unsure. I would have thought my or Bernadetta’s spies in Brigid would have informed me first.” He put a hand on his chin as he thought. “But I know they are also wrapped up in the trade dispute with Sreng. I did not technically see it in the Agarthans possession, but it is best to assume the worst. The rumors Ferdinand spoke of seem to be true. They are indeed after you and wish to kill me- they have discovered where we’ve been living on the Salz Coast.”

Edelgard went pale, but her voice held all its usual strength as she spoke, “So they are headed for our home?” 

Hubert nodded.

“If the bandit rumors are completely true, this is where they are hiding away.” Ferdinand leaned over the map and tapped a sliver of the Oghma Mountains that lay on the northern side but was near Garreg Mach’s ruins. “We should advance there. We have plenty of soldiers to push an attack.” He gestured to the group of metal pieces placed on Enbarr and moved half of them to the spot he’d tapped on. “Most of our soldiers are Adrestian and aren’t familiar with the winters the Old Kingdom had, but if we quickly gathered resources, we could make it work. Caspar has kept the army strong.”

“And you call yourself a diplomat,” Huber muttered and moved all but a single metal unit back to Enbarr. “I disagree; we cannot risk taking so many troops. This is a mission of _discretion_. Shambhala was destroyed after years of building up information and creating a complicated, vast web of spies that has significantly diminished. With Arundel dead, we have no idea who is now leading them or if their ambitions have changed. And we have little on how many of them there are or how they survived this long without being found. We cannot run into battle purely off of speculations.”

Ferdinand half frowned half scowled and shook his head, his fiery hair swayed as he did so. Had he always given that look before jumping into a tangent? “But we also must consider the _advantage_ we have. They do not know that we have discovered them or that you two are in Enbarr and not the Salz Coast! We might not have such an opportunity later!” He raised a fist for emphasis. “Fódlan is more stabilized now than it was when we attacked Shambhala, and we have exceedingly more soldiers available. We might not know all the information, but sometimes one must take risks when they have the upper hand. We did so during the Battle of Horsebow Moon and the Battle of Teutates.”

Before Hubert could quip a reply, Edelgard spoke. “You both-” She glared at the two men. “-make strong points. I think we should ponder this information for at least the rest of the day. It’s not a light decision to make.”

Ferdinand and Hubert both nodded in agreement. 

“I will do everything within my power to end this quickly. You have my word, Edelgard.” Ferdinand placed a hand upon his heart and a great earnestness shown in his eyes.

Edelgard rested a hand on his shoulder. “I know, Ferdinand. You are a dear friend; I couldn’t have chosen a better successor.” 

His cheeks burned at such praise, and he cleared his throat. “Shall we reconvene tomorrow morning?” 

“Yes. We must make a decision then.” Edelgard nodded and left the war room, leaving a wave of silence behind her.

Ferdinand moved to leave as well, but Hubert caught his arm.

“Ferdinand.”

“Yes?” He didn’t turn to look at Hubert.

“I’m...sorry. I have been a horrible friend, Ferdinand. My actions have been cruel and inexcusable. What happened to Bernadetta is not your fault, and you are a brilliant tactician that did your best with the circumstance in front of you.” Halfway through his apology, Ferdinand turned to face him. 

“Yes, well, I forgive you of course. I…I knew you did not mean your harsh words.” He continued more quietly, “I’m sorry for how foolish I’ve acted myself. I suppose we are both short-tempered these days. Perhaps we should both try to have a bit more patience with one another?”

Hubert nodded. “Very well.”

“We should have tea later today,” he suggested like a peace offering.

“That would be nice.”

Ferdinand smiled and opened the door to leave. “Tea it is.”

“And Ferdinand,” Hubert called. The minister looked over his shoulder. “Sagittae,” he mumbled.

A look of sympathy and understanding washed over Ferdinand's expression. “Fimbulvetr,” he said with a tone of reassurance.

Hubert’s lips lifted in the ghost of a smile as he nodded, and Ferdinand left.

* * *

A brisk knock softly rattled the door to Ferdinand’s study. It was late into the night, and this section of the Palace was abandoned far before now as people relinquished work for sleep.

“Come in, quickly,” he hissed.

A soldier stepped inside and into the dim lantern light to reveal solid black eyes and gray skin beneath his helmet. He hesitated by the door.

“Mire," he spoke with a Brigid accent.

“Bohr.” Ferdinand replied.

“Good, it’s you then.” The Agarthans expression darkened as he smiled.

Ferdinand stood from his chair. "Is the plan in place for the Blood Mage?"

“Yes, Lord Periander, it’s taking shape nicely. Tomorrow night Lord Vestra will be dead."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first started writing this, it was very loose and full of freeform, but over time it has become a truly proper thing with a solid beginning, middle, and end. And since the first two chapters were confusing and garbled, I decided to rewrite them so that the story could start on proper footing. Please have patience and forgive me for the confusion!


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